


lost

by athletiger



Series: the ironclad winter soldier [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Civil War (Marvel), Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Introspection, Post-Civil War (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: It’s a cold and lonely place to be, all alone and stuck in a suit of armor with all his friends, or perhaps “friends,” deserting him. He thought he could trust them to have his back; he thought that his trust in them was well-deserved.





	lost

**Author's Note:**

> Err...I'm starting out 2019 realizing I didn't at all work on my H/C bingo, so here I am, working on it. This is gonna be a lead-in to a series of Winter Soldier!Tony Stark.
> 
> I'm filling a postage stamp: trust issues, stranded/survival scenario, wasteland, and side effects, not necessarily in that order.
> 
> Beta'ed by [demigodscum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demigodscum).

The coldness seeps through the damaged cracks of the armor, touching his rapidly cooling skin with her icy and unrelenting tendrils. She delights in his defeat as he sits there, slumped against a pillar, because what he has lost, she can gain. And gain she will get. She’s already captured Zola, delivering him to her cousin Death, and she seeks to give another to her because it is clear that he has lost greatly; his body posture and his unmoving figure tells all.

The Siberian wind shrieks with joy to see that the Captain has left a present for her, and she ignores it when the armor sputters back to life in weak defiance against Mother Nature to save her master from this fate. In this wasteland, a sacrifice must be made, and one Anthony Stark makes the perfect sacrifice for her greedy nature.

The HUD sputters, blinks back to life in fuzziness, unable to get its bearing to procure clear displays. FRIDAY is monitoring her master’s vitals as best as she can in the failing armor: both he and she are weak. “Sir,” FRIDAY tries to say; her voice comes and goes. “Shall I call Vision or Rhodes?”

Tony tilts his head back, letting the freezing wall take the heaviness of his pounding skull now that the adrenaline has fizzled out into nothingness. “Forget it,” Tony replies. “I can’t bring Rhodey back into this mess.” His voice is exhausted, and his tongue is swollen with grief. There is no saving from this situation.

It’s a cold and lonely place to be, all alone and stuck in a suit of armor with all his friends, or perhaps “friends,” deserting him. He thought he could trust them to have his back; he thought that his trust in them was well-deserved. But just like what Obadiah had done, they took that trust and crushed it into a million tiny pieces, throwing the ashes into the air like it was nothing to them. With that loss of trust, Tony’s energy to push on and remain a futurist fades with the cold puffs of air he exhales.

When is he done with the repentance of his sins? When can the red in his ledger, the one that is larger than Natasha’s own, release him from his captivity? Tony closes his eyes slowly, exhaling frigid air slowly, waiting for something, anything.

Death has rejected Tony; he isn’t done paying, she tells her cousin. She acknowledges the rejection with good grace, but she isn’t done hurting him yet. As Tony slips out of reality, footsteps thump softly against the concrete floor of the wooden bunker, its careful sound gradually growing louder as it makes their way to their destination. When they finally do, Tony’s not awake to defend himself from his fate – a needle slip into his neck, its contents going into his bloodstream so that he doesn’t know what has hit him.

HYDRA’s Siberian bunker burns as the unknown figure drags the armor away, Tony with it. Mother Nature descends upon this sacrifice instead, and the wind surrounds the funeral pyre.


End file.
